Author's note: This story, of its own volition, decided to take a dark and angsty turn. It's not how I imagined this playing out, but it is what it is.

Also, Happy New Year everyone! Thanks again for all your reviews and continued support, and for your patience with my erratic story updates.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES EARLIER

"Pl-Please. . .please. . ." Not knowing if he was begging her to stop or for the drug to kick in since it didn't matter. Tears stung his eyes as she positioned herself over him, bringing home the disconcerting fact if he moved just a millimeter or so upward, they would. . .

Then her eyes rolled back into their sockets and she collapsed on top of him.

Walter didn't know how long he laid there; slowing his heart, quieting his breathing, gathering his wits. He slowly became aware of Zalina's bare skin resting against his groin. Panic paralyzed him, afraid of what would happen if he moved the wrong way. But staying in this precarious position wasn't an option.

Gritting his teeth, he carefully rolled the unconscious singer off of him. She flopped onto her back, lying spread-eagle across the bed. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he dashed to the bathroom, where he proceeded to throw up until there was nothing left inside him.

Sitting on the tile floor, his forehead resting against the cool porcelain of the toilet, he tried to recall the meticulous plan he'd concocted with. . . Paige. A guilty groan ripped through him as he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He couldn't think of her. . .not here. . .not now. He needed to do what he came there to do and get out.

Phone, he needed to clone the phone. Taking several deep ragged breaths, he rose up on unsteady legs. Stumbling into the bedroom, he located Zalina's purse which she'd tossed aside earlier and found her cell. With fumbling fingers, Walter activated the cloning device, setting the three minute waiting period in motion.

He began to pace back and forth, synchronizing his steps as he counted off the seconds, keeping his gaze averted from the naked woman on the bed. ". . .179. . .180." Done. Good. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he turned off the device, and started to shove it back into the pocket of his jeans. He stilled as he realized he was naked from the waist up and his fly was undone and. . .

Frantically, he rearranged himself and tugged at his zipper, desperately searching for his shirts. He found the red plaid flannel flung over a chair, and contemplated just putting it on when he spied his t-shirt. Grabbing it up off the floor, he yanked it over his head, then shrugged into the flannel.

Once he was dressed, he slid the cloning device into his pocket, stopping when he felt a plastic bag. Oh damn, he'd almost forgotten what Paige had called an important aspect of their plan. Pulling out the baggy, he opened it up and dumped the used condoms it contained into the first waste basket he saw.

After stuffing everything back into his pockets, he realized Zalina hadn't moved since she'd passed out. Fearing the worst, he reached for her wrist, sighing in relief as her pulse beat strongly under his fingers. She may be one of the most terrifying people he'd ever met, but it didn't mean he wanted her to come to any harm.

Satisfied she would survive, Walter forced himself to walk the short distance to Paige's room. Standing outside her door, he raised his hand to knock, knowing she was eagerly waiting on the other side. His desire to see her warred with the shame roiling his gut. He didn't know how he could face her. He may have managed to clone Zalina's phone, but in every other facet of their plan. . .

His legs buckled then, and he allowed himself to crumple to the floor. Tears leaked from his eyes as he curled himself in a tight ball.

He'd failed.

ooooo

"If. . .if she hadn't pass, passed out. . . I-I would have. . .we would have . . ."

"Shh, shh. . ." Paige tried to comfort after he'd finished describing what had gone on in Zalina's hotel room. Righteous fury flared within her, but it would have to wait. She needed to deal with Walter's tenuous emotional state first. Because he needed to know. . ."It wasn't your fault," she said, stroking her fingers down his back.

He flinched violently, and she immediately relaxed her hold. "Y-Yes. Yes it is." He started pacing, agitatedly raking his hand through his hair. "I let it. . .I let it go too far. . .I. . ."

Coming to a halt, he turned to her, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. She almost wished he hadn't. Shame and self-hatred filled their dark depths. She'd seen eyes like his before, too many times, in too many other victims of assault who blamed themselves.

"No, you didn't do anything," she stated firmly.

"I know I didn't," he snapped, rubbing at his eyes. "I just let. . . I didn't stop. . .stop her." He drew in a ragged breath. "I-I don't. . .don't understand."

"Understand what?" When he didn't answer, instead staring down at his feet once again, she became concerned. "Walter, please. . . What don't you understand?"

"I love you," he declared, darting a quick glance at her. "Why would I. . .? I didn't. . .didn't want her. . . But I. . .I, um, I responded. . ."

"Oh, sweetheart." Paige reached out to him, and when he didn't shy away, placed her hands on the sides of his face. "You do know it's possible to be intimate with someone you don't love. It happens all the time."

"Not. . .Not to me. . . I've never. . ."

"I know you haven't," she said before tilting her head to study him curiously. "You mean you've never been in love before, right? Not that you've never felt. . .sexual desire?"

He shook his head. "It. . .sex. . .it never held much interest. I could ignore it for the most part, lose myself in my work, until sometimes I would have to. . .have to. . .myself." He broke off, his cheeks flushing a bright red. She knew what he meant, her own face growing warm. She'd gotten pent up during her near decade of unintended celibacy and had taken matters into her own hands on occasion.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he continued, "When I met you. . . I'd never met anyone who. . .who stimulated me. . .that way. . .sexually. . .as much as you do. And now. . .this. . .what happened. . . I tried thinking of you. . .but. . .but that didn't work. It only made things worse. Not worse. . .more like. . .like. . ." He was shaking, almost incoherent with distress, no doubt believing she was angry with him.

"Walter," she said patiently, "please don't think I'm upset with you. I'm not." She sighed resignedly. "I'm upset with myself. I should have sucked it up and spent three miserable minutes in her company instead of sending you into a situation for which you were ill-equipped."

He kept his gaze diverted as she gently stroked his stubbled cheeks, his whiskers rough against her palms. "You had to suffer through what. . .what Yuri did," he murmured as he slid his hands around her waist. "I should have been able to. . .to handle her."

"But instead she handled you." Her rage bubbled to the surface again. She wanted to confront Zalina, envisioned slapping the other woman silly. She couldn't though, not unless she wanted to blow their cover. She wished, and not for the first time, they would solve this stupid case and go home.

"It wasn't your fault," she reassured him, her hands slipping from his face to the back of his head. He quivered under her touch but didn't pull away, which she considered a good sign. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, threading her fingers through his thick curls. "If you need some time to process. . ."

"I need you." He raised his eyes, her knees trembling at the raw passion she saw in them. Oh, God. He wanted to. . .with her. But what he was thinking. . . It had to be a terrible idea. She knew it would be the last thing on her mind if she'd been in his shoes.

"Walter. . ." she began, meaning to talk him out of it.

"I need you," he repeated. "Not because I want to erase. . .to erase her. . . Because I can't. . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The way my mind works. . ."

"I know, sweetheart." She was well aware his eidetic memory was both a blessing and a curse. "Are you sure? You would want to after. . .everything?" Worried deep down he did want to erase what happened with Zalina, she hoped he wasn't once again diving in something over his head.

"Yes." He kissed her; softly at first, then with a desperate hunger, her legs buckling as he eased his tongue into her mouth. Longing glided down her spine, pooling into a insistent ache between her thighs. He pressed himself against her and she gasped, getting a good whiff of the nauseating stench still clinging to him.

"No offense," she choked out, pushing away from him. "But you stink. I think you might have to burn those clothes."

Walter sniffed, getting a noseful of Zalina's obnoxious perfume and his own vomit. Stripping off his flannel shirt, he flung it aside. "I, uh, I probably should take. . .take a shower. . ."

"I think that would be a good idea," she said, running a finger down the front of his tee.

He moaned softly. Everything about her felt so right; her lavender scent, the taste of her mouth, her body against his, her touch which simultaneously calmed him and drove him wild. It was true, no one else had ever aroused him like she did. Most of the time all she had to do was smile at him and his brain would stir up fantasies so erotic. . .

Heat swamped him from head to toe, and he turned away, taking off his odious t-shirt as he headed for the bathroom.

"Oh, my God, Walter. . ." Spinning back around, he caught her horrified expression.

"What? What's wrong?" His embarrassment forgotten, he stepped toward her.

"Your back. . ." She put her hand over her mouth, muffling her "Oh God."

He tried to look over his shoulder before realizing it was an inefficient action. Making his way into the bathroom, he came to a halt as he glimpsed himself in the mirror. Shit, there was a large bruise at the base of his throat and a small scrape on his right shoulder. With a deliberate slowness, he twisted so his back was facing the mirror.

Four parallel scratches ran several inches down each shoulder blade. A couple were still oozing blood, while others had congealed. Walter slumped, grasping the edge of the counter, closing his eyes as his breath came in panicked gulps. Bile rose in his throat and he willed himself not to be sick again. And now he knew they were there, the abrasions stung like hell.

A small noise from the doorway made him glance up. Paige stood there, her eyes bright with tears, biting her lip. But under her concern for him, he noted her rage. He'd seen Paige in overprotective Mama Bear mode before, and was grateful he wasn't in Zalina's impractical shoes. The liaison appeared mad enough to literally tear the other woman apart with her bare hands.

"Maybe I should go," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can stay here and I'll go back to. . ."

"No!" She couldn't leave. The thought of being alone, trying to cope on his own, filled him with dread. He reached out to her, lightly grasping her upper arms. "Please, don't. . ."

"Walter, I don't think you're ready. . .for this. For sex," she clarified, raising her hands to cup his face again.

"Paige," he murmured, lowering his gaze. "Maybe I'm not ready. . . But I need you to stay with me."

Leaning forward, she touched her forehead to his. "It's not that I don't. . .want you. But you've been assaulted. Having sex isn't going to fix this. It would probably make it worse."

He realized that. He'd been overwhelmed, overstimulated, and overset by what had happened. "I don't know if I can explain," he said, chewing his lip. "But you soothe me. And I need that. . .need you to help put my mind to rest." Dragging his thumb across the soft skin of her cheek, he then traced her lips. "I trust you."

"I trust you, too," she said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You'll have to let me know if you're uncomfor. . ."

"I will," he cut in. "But I won't be. I love you."

He drew her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers, driving everything and everyone else out of his head.

ooooo

It was several hours later as Paige lay sated in Walter's arms when she remembered the reason for all the turmoil they'd gone through. "Hey," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "We forgot to send the data from her phone to Sly."

He didn't answer right away and she thought he'd fallen asleep. "I did it earlier," he mumbled drowsily, rubbing his hand over his face. "While you were drying your hair."

"Oh." The corners of her mouth curled into a smile. Images of her and Walter in the hotel bathroom's accommodating shower stall and then again on the very bed they were lying on, drifted through her mind. He'd been more aggressive both times they'd made love than he'd been before. And although she'd enjoyed it immensely, she also worried he'd been overcompensating because of what had happened with Zalina.

Shoving her concerns to the back of her mind, she said, "I wonder why we haven't heard back from Sylvester about Nazar's phone yet. You sent it in hours ago."

"Mmm, I'm sure there's a good reason," he replied, pulling her deeper into his arms and nuzzling her neck. "We can worry about it tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

"Later then." Pressing her lips to his, she felt him relax. It only took a few moments before his even breathing told her he'd fallen asleep. As much as she hated being wrong, she had to acknowledge he'd been right. He did need her. She was his safe place, his comfort zone, the only person he trusted completely.

As she let herself float off, two unrelated thoughts swirled around inside her head. First of all, she hoped she could prove herself worthy of Walter's devotion. Secondly, why hadn't Sly gotten back to them?